


Three Stardates

by ObsessedWithMerlin



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: BornagirlKirk, Enterprise, F/M, Fem!Kirk, Tarsus IV, USS Kelvin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2018-12-15 13:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11807142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedWithMerlin/pseuds/ObsessedWithMerlin
Summary: Jamie t Kirk is born in an escape pod after The Narada destroys the Kelvin. George Samuel Kirk is unable to leave his sister when he attempts to run away. Instead, Sam looks for help in the newly promoted Captain Pike. Through the struggles of Tarsus, Jamie learns the true meaning of leadership, and just how important Starfleet's mission is. Pike's and Sam's influence cause eighteen-year-old Jamie to join the Academy, where she debates a logical Vulcan Cadet with emotion and philosophy. Destinies are tricky things, will Jamie be ready for Nero this time around? Fem!Kirk/Spock.





	1. A Girl Born of Stars and Lightning

Stardate 2233.04: Aboard the USS Kelvin  
The mission was neutral: transportation and peaceful negotiations through federation listed space. The ship, although armed, was not equipped for battle. The captain, although qualified, was not prepared for the possibility of death. So, when an anomaly appeared on the indistinguishable black horizon, the impossibly, became the reality.  
STARFLEET COMM OFFICER: USS Kelvin, go for Starfleet base.  
KELVIN COMM OFFICER: Starfleet base. We sent you a transmission. Did you receive?  
STARFLEET COMM OFFICER: Kelvin, have you double-checked those readings?  
KELVIN COMM OFFICER: Our gravitational sensors are going crazy here, you should see this. It looks like a lightning storm.  
STARFLEET COMM OFFICER: What you sent us doesn't seem possible.  
KELVIN COMM OFFICER: Yes, ma'am. I understand. That's why we sent it.  
The ominous nebula, that would forever be appraised by its likeness to a Terran lightning storm, loomed over the bridge of the USS Kelvin. “Captain,” an officer in a yellow command-and-flight shirt called. “There is a ship approaching.”  
“Who is it, Lieutenant?” Captain Robau demanded, his temper tense from the growing uncertainty within his usually direct instincts.  
“Unknown, Captain. I’ve never seen a ship with these readings.”  
“Stay alert, but don’t raise the shields,” he commanded, and then to another, “Hail them. We cannot afford any complications with 600 civilians on board this ship.”  
“Yes, Captain.”  
The tense quiet froze time like nothing on earth ever could. It was a moment most would never have to endure, the feeling of a Captain. If someone was to ask Robau about what it felt like to captain a starship, he would have no answer, because his definition was founded in moments like this one. Moments where the dark of space seemed to dim the very light that had once lit the night sky of a child who dreamed of adventure. It was as if the ship’s artificial gravity rested the entirety of its mass on his very shoulders, while the crew waited to hail a possible hostile.  
“There is no response, Captain.”  
“Captain, they are jamming our signals.”  
“Shields up, Red a—”  
“They've locked weapons on us!”  
“Red alert,” repeated first officer George Kirk. “Torpedoes locked on 320 degrees, mark 2.”  
“Arm weapons! Evasive pattern delta five,” Robau shouted, the tone of his voice chosen for him by the situation at hand.  
“Incoming frags,” Commander Kirk reported just before they hit.  
The impact shook the Kelvin, casting officers from chairs and throwing those unfortunate enough to have been standing across rooms and into walls. Sparks shot out from damaged electricals, burning those closest to the fount, as the lights flicked and dimmed from the stress. When the ship rebalanced and the light returned, not all officers were able to get back up.  
“Fire all phasers!” Robau cried. “Damage report.”  
“Warp drive's been knocked out. I've never seen anything like it, Captain,” the comms from Engineering responded. “Weapons are offline. Main power is 38%.”  
“All power to forward shields.”  
Another round of hits and the walls of the lower levels were giving, sucking those in range out into the abyss.  
“Are our shields even up?” an officer yelled in frustration.  
“They're at eleven percent and dropping,” Kirk shouted back. “Ten percent . . . sir, it's nine and we're dropping . . .”  
“Hello,” the sickeningly calm voice interrupted the chaos as a hailing video appeared on screen. A Romulan male its owner. “My commander requests the presence of your captain, in order to negotiate a cease fire. You will come aboard our ship via shuttlecraft. Your refusal would be unwise.”  
And as it came, it left, but it left behind the same respite from the destruction as it had brought. One more hit and the ship and its crew would be lost.  
“Ready the shuttles for evacuation,” Captain Robau called to his crew before turning to his first officer. “Walk with me.”  
As the pair traveled down the corridor, the captain continued, “If I don't report in fifteen minutes, evacuate the crew.”  
“Sir, we could still—”  
“No,” Robau interrupted. “There is no help for us out here. Use auto-pilot, and get off this ship.”  
“Aye, Captain.”  
Robau looked him in the eye, confident that they would be the last pair of human eyes he would ever see. “You’re the Captain now, Mister Kirk.”  
He was right.  
The captain’s heart rate increased from the moment he beamed off the Kelvin, the crew was monitoring it from the bridge. They watched with a knowing fear as they waited for the flatline. They knew instantly when he was gone, observing a small moment of silence between the survivors, although it was left uncertain if the reasons behind that silence were religious, therapeutic, respectful, or the cause of pure shock coursing through their veins.  
“Sir, they're locked onto our signal,” the helm officer broke in. “They’re launching again!”  
“Bravo-six maneuver fire full,” Commander, now Captain, Kirk recited from training.  
A full volley of weapons rendered the evasive attempts useless.  
“I'm initiating General Order Thirteen. We're evacuating.”  
“Yes, sir!”  
Kirk reached over to the internal comms. “All decks, this is the Captain speaking: Evacuate the ship immediately. Get down to the shuttlecrafts. Repeat evacuate immediately.”  
The crew ran out, leaving Captain George Kirk in command of an empty bridge.  
“George?” a familiar voice rang through the comm systems.  
“You're okay, thank God,” he let out a sigh of relief as he heard his wife. She had not been one of the many that had perished already that night. “I have Medical Shuttle Thirty-seven standing by. Get to it now. Can you do that?”  
She confirmed.  
“Everything's going to be okay. Do exactly as I say. Shuttle Thirty-seven.”  
“George, it's coming. Our baby, it's coming now.”  
Now? It was nearly two months early.  
“I'm on my way.” Even in all this desolation, a small feeling of elation broke through as he thought of his child. This would be there second, little Sammy would finally get to be the older brother George knew he was born to be. Sam was already helping prepare; he always had to say good morning or good night with his small hands desperately feeling for kicks. His family.  
Reaching up to start the auto-pilot, he was already mentally in that pod. He could already feel the pain in his hand, just as bad as it was last time. He could already imagen finally seeing their baby for the first time.  
And the it all fell apart.  
“Auto-pilot function has been destroyed. Manual operation only.”  
The impossible, became the reality. He would never see any of the dreams Wionna and he had laid for their lives together. He would never see Sammy again. His wife would deliver their child alone in a shuttle pod.  
“Captain to Shuttle Thirty-Seven: Is my wife onboard?”  
“Yes sir, she is,” the pilot said.  
“I need you to go now. Do you hear me?” It was an honest question, at that moment, George did not want to hear the words coming out of his mouth so much, he was unsure if they got through.  
“We're waiting on you, sir.”  
“No,” his voice broke, “take off now. Leave immediately.”  
When no response came he repeated himself stronger. “Take off, that’s an order.”  
This was what he wanted, Kirk convinced himself. This was the only way. His wife, his baby, they must live. It didn’t matter what happened to him, his family would survive.  
“Yes, sir.” The affirmative came reluctantly, but it came. That was enough.  
It wasn’t until a new voice returned that his resolve did waver a bit.  
“George, the shuttle's leaving. Where are you?”  
“Sweetheart, listen to me. I'm not going to be there.”  
“No,” her voice demanded and it almost made him smile. She was a fighter, his fighter. Wionna Kirk could be his biggest adversary, but she was also his biggest advocate. He loved her, so much. This was going to break his very soul to tell her this, to leave her, but it was the only way.  
“This is the only way you'll survive.”  
“Please, don't stay on the ship. You have to be here.”  
“The shuttles will never make it if I don't fight them off.” It wasn’t a lie, not entirely. He would have taken his chances if the auto-pilot would have worked. But now, it was the only thing he could tell himself that would keep him on that ship. It was a purpose. Not one of those pods would fall to enemy fire while he was there to defend them. He would protect his family and everyone else’s.  
“George, I can't do this without you.”  
“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You can do this, Sweetheart,” Kirk comforted but was unsure if she heard him, she was screaming in what seemed like the loudest yet. Could this be the one?  
It was silent over the comms for a few seconds and George almost began to worry. Then the soft cry of a baby.  
“What is it?” he laughed through the tears, both joy and misery mixed into one.  
“It’s a girl,” Wionna’s tired but awe-filled voice once again reached him.  
“A girl!” George closed his eyes and imagined the scene he was only listening to. His beautiful wife, exhausted but so full of new love, as she softly held a pink bundle to her chest. He was there, in his mind, he could see them. He was wrapped behind Wionna, her leaning into his chest, needing the support.  
“Tell, tell me about her,” he begged.  
“She’s beautiful.”  
He could see her, a soft blonde fuzz covering the top of her head. He reached around Wionna to gently cup the unprotected head of his beautiful baby girl. George softly kissed her closed eyes.  
“George, you should be here.”  
I am, his heart whispered. I am.  
He wondered what color her eyes would be when they opened, what shape her small nose was. He felt her grip around his pinky, the only finger her tiny, little hands could fit around.  
“Impact Alert,” the computer announced, jarring him back to reality.  
“What should name her?” he needed a name, the name of his tiny little angel. She’ll raise some hell when she gets older, just like her momma, but she’ll find that one man that she decided to settle her grace on, and he’ll know. That man will know the kind of angel George’s baby was.  
“I didn’t think she was going to be a girl, I was going to suggest Tiberius.”  
The Romulan ship is getting closer, or he was. The captain’s heart was beating out of his chest as fear threatened to take over. He forced a laugh.  
“Tiberius? Are you kidding? That’s the worst. No, we’ll name her after your father. Jamie. Jamie Kirk.”  
“Jamie. Yeah, I like that. Jamie Teyler.”  
The ship was close. It was right there.  
Wionna, Sammy, Jamie. His family. His life. They would live, they would continue, it was going to be okay, he told himself. It was going to be okay.  
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?” he was desperate, he needed her voice. He didn’t know how to get his hands to stop shaking.  
“I can hear you.”  
It was right there. The ship was so big. It was so close.  
Almost deliriously, he managed to say his last words, “I love you so much. I love you . . .


	2. The Means of a Kirk

Stardate 2242.189: Riverside, Iowa  
“Get the hell out of this house! When your mom comes back, she can deal with you!”  
The screen door of the small farming house on a cropless plot slammed shut, its cheap plastic bouncing off the frame before bending slightly from the impact.  
“Go ahead, go. Run away. You think I give a damn?” an overweight, middle-aged man with a drinking problem stumbled after a sixteen-year-old boy.  
“Where are you going?” a small girl with blue eyes and blonde curls came running after the men, confused at this new exchange.  
“As far as I can get!” Sam cried.  
“Which won’t be far enough,” their uncle, Frank, taunted. “This is my house, not yours, and not your mothers.”  
As they got further from the house, Jamie started to panic. She started running to keep up with their fast pace.  
“What do you want, Jamie?” Frank yelled, turning his wrath on her.  
Sam stopped walking as Frank stopped his pursuit, turning back around to watch his sister. Jamie sputtered for a moment, scared by the looming, angry man, but not enough to back down.  
“I just don’t want my brother to go.”  
“Well what you want doesn’t matter. You’re no one. And I asked you to wash the car. How many damn times do I need to repeat myself?”  
Sam, who was previously resolved in his departure, felt the first hint of doubt as Frank caused Jamie to stumble back.  
His uncle looked back over at him. “Go,” he said, finality in his voice. Frank retreated into the house, confident that Sam would leave, that he would abandon his sister.  
Sam took a few angry steps after him, wanting to say something else but the words wouldn’t come.  
“Please stay,” Jamie’s voice called from behind him. She had moved to the center of the driveway, blocking his exit.  
“I just can’t take Uncle Frank anymore. Mom has no idea what he’s like when she’s not around. Did you hear him talking like he’s our dad? That’s not even his car you’re washing, that’s dad’s car.”  
George Samuel Kirk had never been able to adjust to life with his uncle. Unlike Jamie, he could remember their father. Sam knew this wasn’t the life Dad would have given them. He hated it when his Mom left Earth, off on some peacekeeping mission. The same type that got Dad killed in the first place.  
“You’re going to be okay,” he told Jamie as she once again tried to match his quick steps. “You always are. You do everything right. Good grades. Obeying every stupid order.”  
That was the worst, Sam thought. Having to obey that drunk. Kirks weren’t made to blindly obey orders. They were made to take leaps, to lead, to question and discover.  
“I can’t be a Kirk in this house,” he concluded, kneeling to look Jamie in the eye. “Show me how to do that and I’ll stay.”  
It was a lot to place on a nine-year-old. Jamie didn’t understand yet why their Uncle frank slurred his words so often. She didn’t know what that amber and clear liquid did to a man. She didn’t care, all she needed was for her brother to stay.  
“Don’t leave me.”  
Sam’s eyes teared up and his anger once again sparked. “Mom leaves us! Every time she abandons us here with him! I can’t do it anymore.”  
“If you leave you’ll be just like her!”  
“There is no other way, Jamie.” Sam started to walk again.  
“Fine!” she screamed, her nose scrunching like it always did when she cried. “Leave! You’re right! You can’t be a Kirk here because Kirks don’t stay!”  
He stopped.  
“I don’t like Uncle Frank!” her shrill voice accenting the word ‘like.’ “He looks at me funny!”  
Sam spun around, surely he misunderstood. “What do mean?” When she didn’t respond he walked back to her and asked again.  
“Go away!” she pouted in the way only an adolescent girl can.  
“Jamie,” Sam demanded.  
“Just go!”  
“Jamie, please, this is important,” Sam prompted, trying a gentler approach.  
“Why do you even care, you’re just going to leave.”  
“If you tell me, I’ll find a way to stay.” The words came out before Sam could think about them and mentally he face palmed. Although, a small part of him was relieved he now had an outside reason for him to stay. Truthfully, he didn’t want to go, the words had just slipped out of his mouth earlier this afternoon and Frank had backed him into a corner.  
“You promise?”  
“I promise. Now, what do you mean he looks at you funny?” he asked slowly, already fearing the answer.  
“He looks at me like he has ants.”  
Sam’s brow furrowed at her comparison. “What?”  
She shrugged, her sobs having been subsided by his promise. “His eyes feel like ants.”  
“What does an ant feel like, Jamie?”  
She reached over to his neck and softly tapped with her nails. “You know, ants.”  
Sam suddenly engulfed her in his arms, glaring with more rage than he ever felt back at that stupid house. He was going to have to go back in there, he was going to have to swallow his pride and go back. He couldn’t leave Jamie, not now. He needed to teach her that Kirks didn’t leave, he needed to protect her.  
Frank was going to think he didn’t have the guts to leave. His uncle had dared him to run, and Sam never stood down from a dare. Maybe he could just take Jamie with him. No, that wouldn’t work, he had no idea what would happen to either of them if they left and he wasn’t going to expose his baby sister to that. Frank could think what he wanted. He had two more years before Frank could legally kick him out of the house. Right now, Frank couldn’t do a damn thing if he decided to stay verses go. His uncle could and with out a doubt would say something, a very loud something, but that was worth it. Sam couldn’t risk leaving Jamie alone.  
Anyways, there were no such things as no win scenarios, Kirks find answers, they don’t run away. He would just have to find out what his father would have done.  
The Kirk siblings had waited outside until dark, watching the stars. Perhaps it was in that moment that shifted their destinies once again. They were going to face the world together, and Sam was going to find a way for them to do that. When they had finally gone in, Jamie was already asleep, so Sam carried her into their room. Sam made sure to lock the door behind them, as he would be doing every night for the rest of their time here. If Sam had anything to say about it, Jamie would never have to find out what their uncle’s ‘ant stare’ meant.  
The next morning, when Sam had come down for breakfast, his hungover uncle sneered in greeting. “I’ve always known you were to pussy to leave.”  
Sam bit his tongue, holding back a remark that would have started a fight like yesterday’s. He had a mission now and in order to complete it he had to be smart. Sam waited until his uncle left for work before going and getting Jamie up. He left her a sandwich in the fridge for lunch before grabbing his backpack and making the five-mile trek into town.  
A little over an hour later, Sam walked into the public library. What his sister had said last night had hit home, he didn’t know what it meant to be a Kirk anymore. He couldn’t ask his mom, she never had time to pick up his comms, so he went to the only place he could. If he couldn’t talk with his dad anymore, maybe hearing about him will help him know what to do.  
Sam typed his father’s name into one of the public computers. Thousands of documents including news articles, planetary historical references, Starfleet enlistment forms, honorary tributes, and different types reports appeared on the screen. Sam shifted to get comfortable knowing he was going to be here a while. After narrowing down his search to first person accounts, he found hundreds of stories that had nearly nothing to do with his father except some variation of “I heard his voice come over the comm system. We didn’t know what had happened to the Captain. He told us to evacuate . . . he fought them off while the pods drifted out of range.”  
Refining his search, Sam then searched for Starfleet officiated reports. There was an interview with one of the officers from the bridge, one who knew his father before the incident; that was pretty cool. There was another submitted by the pilot of the shuttle that Jamie was born in. One of the longer entries was a dissertation, an analysis of his father’s actions. In the end, it concluded that George Kirk’s decision to stay aboard the Kelvin ultimately save hundreds of lives and his sacrifice, bravery, and strategy should continue to inspire Starfleet officers and civilians alike for centuries. The name beneath the dissertation said Lieutenant Christopher Pike.  
 


	3. A Celebratory Night

“Attention! Attention!”  
The drunken cry rose above the crowd and the beat. The darkened atmosphere of the bar was located on the edge of the base and offered primarily for officers on shore leave. The shout announced the presence of one Lieutenant Carl Finnlay, who was currently struggling to find his footing on a tall table near the center of the bar.  
As the crowd quieted, albeit only slightly, the lieutenant continued his disruption. “Two months ago, halfway across the galaxy, Commander Pike successfully negotiated the release of Captain Johnson from a hostile race of Angreians. Now, raise a glass, to the new Captain of the USS Truman.”  
Christopher Pike rolled his eyes at his friend’s and soon to be First Officer’s antics, but the bar erupted with cheers and ‘here, here’s. The room drank. After finishing his shot, Christopher raised a hand in thanks to his fellow officers before aiding his friends in safely removing Finnlay from the table.  
“So,” a purred whisper and a hand dragged that lightly across Pike’s shoulders. “Captain, is it?”  
A warm body leaned close enough to his right arm that he could feel the elevated heat of the other host. He turned to see a Caitian officer, fresh out of the Academy. He gave a hum of agreement, “And Lieutenant M’Ress, if I’m not mistaken?”  
Her tail wrapped provocatively around his arm. “You’re not,” she purred, the tip of her tail grazing his ear. “You have a reputation, Captain.”  
Chris smirked, “And what does this reputation say?” He looked her up and down, admiring the curves mixed with an intoxicating feline aura. Already, his body was feeling the beginnings of anticipation.  
She moved her lips inches away from his own, “It implies that you could handle me . . . sir.”  
“Well, if that’s the—”  
His communicator interrupted him. Giving in apologetic glance to M’Ress, he answered. "Captain Pike.”  
“Hello, uh, Captain?"  
Pike, expecting, as it was a private comm, the call to be from one of his superior officers, was shocked to hear the stuttered greeting from the other side. "Who is this?" he demanded, irked by the casual use of what was supposed to be a reserved line.  
"Um, Sir, my name is George--"  
While Pike momentarily pondered the lack of a specified rank, he felt the real heat of the Caitian next him remove itself.  
"Hold on a second," Pike said, directing it at both his comm and M'Ress.  
He caught her arm, the soft skin having almost a velvety feel due to the miniscule layer of fur covering her tan body, and removed the comm from his ear.  
"M'Ress," he began but was stopped with a long, sharp-nailed finger to his lips.  
"It's alright, Captain," she smiled ferally, and damn if that wasn't the sexiest thing he'd seen in a while. "I did my research. I know all about this part of your reputation as well."  
"This part?" he asked, confused.  
M'Ress smirked. "That you live for your ship, and now I suppose it will be for the chair." She glanced down at his comm, still lit in a dim blue signaling that it was live. "If you finish with that before the night ends, you are more that welcome to find me again. I'll be on the floor. Have a good evening, Captain."  
His rank had never sounded so . . . full of implications. The captain promised himself he would take her up on that offer, if not tonight, then definitely before their next mission assignment. Pike frowned down at his comm, remembering the enigma that awaited his slightly buzzed brain.  
In order to remove some of the distractions, Pike headed outside before reinitiating contact. "Are you an officer of Starfleet?" Pike demanded, eagerness to get back to his night fueling his already severe speech patterns.  
"No, Sir. I--"  
"Then how the hell did you get onto this line?"  
"Well, Sir, I--"  
Pike finally noticed the pitch and hesitancy in his voice. "How old are you, Civilian?" his severity calming some.  
The speaker took a breath, and Pike noticed the tension and frustration within it. A small part of his was glad he had gotten under this kid's skin, he had very nearly ruined his night. "Sixteen, Sir," the boy confirmed Pike's observations.  
"And how did you get the number to this comm?" he asked again. "There's no way you got into Starfleet's system."  
"Not headquarters, no. I hacked into the service mainframe from the shipyards and then piggybacked a signal from the head to some admiral."  
“You did what?”  
“I—”  
“I will report this in the morning as well as apply for stronger firewalls around all earth-based shipyards. If you call this number again, we will be able to track you’re signal. You have committed an act of virtual-trespassing against the Starfleet Federation. This call is over.”  
“No, wait, Sir! Please!”  
The desperation in the kid’s voice made him stop, despite his admitted better judgement. Although the captain knew he was probably just worried about the charges, he decided to play it out. “Talk fast, Son.”  
“My name is George Samuel Kirk and I need your help,” the rushed reply came.  
The slight static over the line filled the silence as Pike’s slowed reactions made the connections. “Kirk?”  
“Yes, Sir?” He sounded unsure if Pike was clarifying or asking a question, in truth, it was probably both.  
“How did you . . .” Christopher began but stopped when he realized he had already answered that question. “Son, what could you possibly need from me?”  
“Earlier this year, I read your dissertation.”  
Pike had done that paper on the USS Kelvin. At the time, he was frustrated he hadn’t gotten something bigger, his roommate had gotten the USS Franklin, but as Pike had read into the actions of Captain George Kirk, he realized the significance in the event. The captain would even go as far as saying it heavily influenced the decisions he made in his most recent negotiation.  
“I, I didn’t know your father, kid.”  
“My name is Sam, and I know you didn’t,” the boy’s teenage rebellion kicking in at his perceived insult to his knowledge. “I, shit, I, I really thought you would have hung up before this. I don’t even know what to say now.”  
His interest now piqued, Pike sat down on a bench, forgetting the noise that awaited him back inside the bar. “Why don’t we start with why you needed to call, and then you can tell me why you called me.”  
“Right, that sounds good,” Sam said, and Christopher couldn’t help the small smile that found it’s way onto his face. If asked, he would have blamed it on those shots. “I called because I’m worried about my sister, Sir. She just turned ten and well, my uncle, he,” the boy stumbled. “When my mom’s off world, she leaves us with our Uncle Frank, and it was fine when I was little, but it’s gotten real bad, especially since dad died. It started with smaller stuff, like when I’d mess up or Jamie was crying real bad. But for a while now, its just been all the time.”  
“What’s been?” Pike asked, already forming some unpleasurable suspicions.  
“The yelling,” the boy finally admitted. “He’s always drunk, he throws things, he never buys enough food. And, and if it was just me, I’d leave, I almost did, but I can’t leave Jamie. He doesn’t usually hit, so the police don’t care, and mom doesn’t believe us. And, you see, Sir, I turn eighteen in twenty-six months, and then he can make me leave Jamie, and she’ll be all alone. And she can’t be alone, Sir, not with him. She’ll be twelve by then and, and,” Sam loses his wording again. “And if he looks at her like that now, I can’t, Sir. I just can’t.”  
Pike sobered up as he started to get the picture. At first, the word ‘usually’ had really struck him, ‘he usually doesn’t hit,’ but then the boy kept talking and he realized just how terrible things were, and much worse they could still get.  
“And then I read your report on the Aenar Genocide in my Intraspecies Relations and Cultures class. And I remembered your name from your paper on the Kelvin. When we analyzed the depth of your report and the effects your negotiations had on the actual society, I knew you would understand.”  
The Aenar prey on their young females sometimes from ages as young as eight. Their placement in society is directly reliant on how young their first pregnancy was. The justification Pike was given when he questioned their right to appeal from Federation aid during a war with the Andorians, an enemy clan, was that the gestation period for Aenars was nearly thirty months, and the women were usually bedridden from the twentieth. Pike denied aid until the leaders agreed to mandate that children under twelve could not be mated with. He had tried to push for a higher age, but Starfleet Command had stepped in to prevent the growing genocide. Although Pike wished he could have done more, and still thought about the negotiations often, it was considered a high mark in his career. It was the event that got him nominated for First Officer.  
“I do, Sam,” Pike comforted. “I understand that steps need to be taken.” Pike heard a muffled shuttering breath on the other side. “Sam?” he asked, concerned.  
“I’m sorry,” Sam responded, his voice tight but Pike could still hear the tears. He correctly assumed they were of relief.  
“Don’t be.”  
“I just,” Sam let out of breath. “I want to protect her, she’s my baby sister, and she has so much potential. I don’t want him to touch her. I can’t stop his words, but I always try to make sure they’re directed at me. I always lock the door, but I’m afraid to sleep at night. Sometimes, when he’s really drunk, I can hear the door nob rattle and his curses from the other side. And I can see the way he looks at her. She’s just a kid, how can he look at her like that?”  
“Sam, you made the right choice. I will help you. I won’t let this go on anymore.”  
“How, Sir?”  
“I have one more week of leave. I’d love to meet your sister.”


	4. Meeting the Captain

Stardate 2242.306: Riverside, Iowa  
Three days after the breach in the Iowa Shipyard’s firewall, an investigation team was sent to identify the problem and block further attacks on their system. Despite the odd request, Admiral Connors had allowed Pike to accompany them. So Pike now found himself pulling up to the address Sam had sent him, over his personal line this time, in a sleek Starfleet vehicle that stood out from the barren fields like a green Selay on a Class P planet.  
As soon as he pulled up, a lengthy figure tore out of the small, rickety house and down towards Pike’s car.  
“Captain Pike, Sir,” Sam greeted, giving him a mock salute. Sam was beyond excited to see a real Starfleet Captain, even though he would deny it if he was asked. He barely believed it when the captain had told him of his plan to come over from London to help him and Jamie.  
“Sam, I presume,” Pike guessed. He was not blind to the similarities Sam had to the pictures of his father, which were plentiful.  
“Yes, Sir,” a further reply was cut off by a small girl running down the same path Sam had taken.  
“Sam!” the mass of curls and legs called.  
“Jamie,” Sam called back. “Come meet the captain.”  
Jamie came to a halt right in front of the stiffly-dressed man and cocked her head up at him. “Hello,” she said.  
Chris smiled, “Hello, Jamie.” This was the girl born during a lightening storm in space. Pike thought it suited her quite nicely. He bent down to look her in the face. Her resemblance, while less noticeable was founded in her eyes. “Your brother tells me you like your languages class.”  
She beamed, revealing a missing left incisor. “Yes, Sir. We are learning—”  
“Get the hell back in here, you little shit, and finish making lunch, unless you don’t want your sister to eat for the next three days,” a slightly slurred, very loud voice threatened from the screen door. Sam’s back went ramrod straight and a fire burned in his eyes.  
Pike stood up, “Frank Davis?”  
Startled at hearing an unfamiliar voice, he stumbled onto the 5’x5’ porch. “Who the hell are you?”  
The captain quickly took measure of the man. He was barefooted, suggesting he was not planning on wearing shoes for at least the next few hours. His grey wife beater had what appeared to be a beer stain about halfway down his shirt, the slight crescent shape indicating it was spilled over the top of his pot belly while he was reclining, most likely to watch the game. There were also grease spots in the shape of fingers which meant that while Sam had just been ordered to make food for his sister, their Uncle had already eaten. The louder volume coming from the house and the number of cars in their drive correlated with the presence of company. The loose way he gripped his beer bottle suggested that it wasn’t his first, and the shiny look to his short hair gave away that he hadn’t showered in at least twenty-four hours. Given that it was nearly three on a Saturday, this would mean that he hadn’t bathed since he had gotten off from whatever manual labor job he managed to keep as it was clear he didn’t have the brains or habits to be white color.  
“My name is Christopher Pike, Captain of the USS Truman, and representative of the Starfleet Board of Financial Pensions, given to children under the age of eighteen who have lost one or more of their parents while serving under Starfleet’s command,” Pike lied, but there wasn’t any way that this man would even think to check his credentials, and Starfleet would never find out about the real reason he requested to go to Riverside, Iowa. “This is a routine check up on the mental health of those such children and the physical environment they are living in.”  
“Bullshit,” Frank sputtered. “I ain’t ever had a thing like that before. And I’ve been getting pensions like that for nearly a decade.”  
“Then on behalf of Starfleet, I apologize for neglecting your household for so long. It is truly our fault that we have yet to come out, but it has just been brought to our attention that Winona Kirk is not in residence over fifty percent of the year as she too is working off world as part of our interplanetary relations core. In such a situation, regulation has to be followed.” As Pike was saying this, he was walking towards the house, making his plan to enter very clear.  
“You can’t just come barging in here, I know my rights.”  
“Of course, sir.” Pike gritted his teeth at the respectful address. “Then I will simply inform the Board to stop all reparation-checks to the Kirk children by request of their co-guardian.”  
Pike will admit, it was damn good to see the color drain from the face of that deplorable excuse for a man. Shakily, Frank opened the door in invitation. Chris looked over his shoulder at Sam and winked before going in.  
The smell hit Pike first: rotting wood, cigarette smoke, cheat whiskey and something else equally as foul. The two kids entered behind Pike, but neither flinched at the odor.  
“If you can lead me to their sleeping quarters, we can get this over and you can get back to your company,” Pike’s words were worded as a suggestion but the tone and delivery clearly made them orders.  
The small bedroom held to twin beds, a small dresser and an even smaller desk. Pike frowned but checked the door nob. The lock that Sam had mentioned was intact, but so were the small indents on the outside of the door. They moved on to the bathroom, which was so unsanitary it almost made him puke. Then it was the kitchen.  
“When was the last time you went shopping?” Pike motioned to the nearly empty fridge. Well, empty of food.  
“We were just planning one, actually.”  
Pike opened a milk carton and smelt it, immediately yanking it back at the foul stench. He smiled tightly as he reattached the lid. “I’m sure you’ll put milk on that list as well.”  
“The top,” Frank gave his own fake smile.  
Walking out of the kitchen, Pike called, “Where are their backpacks?”  
Pike watched as he once again scrambled for a lie.  
“I assume you bought them the necessary school supplies this fall.”  
“Times have been a little tight,” Frank quickly defended.  
Pike only nodded, “But you have portioned out enough to buy them new winter clothes, correct? Winters get harsh in the Midwest.”  
“Of course,” Frank lied.  
“Good,” Pike said sarcastically. “There’s one more place I’d like to check. The electrical box.”  
Frank looked confused but did as he wanted. When they were safely outside, Pike made his move. He threw Frank up against the house.  
“You see, what I don’t understand is, those checks are more than enough to make sure you are never ‘tight’ Mr. Davis.”  
“They just haven’t been enough, that’s not my problem.”  
“No, but it is my problem. My problem is seeing you waste all that money on your addiction. And you know what happens when I have a problem, Mr. Davis?” As Frank continued to struggle against his hold, Pike pulled his forward only to slam him back even harder this time.  
“What the hell do you want, man?” Frank cried pathetically.  
“I want to see a house cleaner coming in once every week. I want to see that fridge stocked with food, real food. I want to see Jamie in whatever extracurricular activities Sam sees fit. And I want you to stop hosting events with your sorry ass friends with the kids in the house. Do you understand me?”  
Frank looked pissed.  
“I will be back in six months, if I find that even one of my demands were not met, I will have your pension cut off before you can even curse the day you met me. Do I make myself clear?”  
Frank nodded, obviously realizing he couldn’t win this fight.  
Pike dropped his hold on him and took three steps away before turning back. “And one more thing,” the captain drew his phaser and aimed it right in between Frank’s eyebrows.  
“Shit,” Frank scrambling back against the house, his hand clawing at the sitting.  
“You even think about touching that little girl, I swear to God I will blow your head off.”  
Chris walked away, leaving the pitiful man to fall into the fetal position.  
“Sam,” he called as he came back into the house. Sam had made a can of soup and he and Jamie were currently eating as fast as they could in the corner of the kitchen. Frank’s friends obviously drunk in the next room.  
“Sir,” Sam acknowledged as he walked in.  
“I talked to your Uncle, things should get better around here real soon. If they don’t call me, and even if I can’t handle it, I promise you I will send someone who can.”  
Sam nodded.  
Pike glanced down at his watch, “I need to go, Son.” His ride was scheduled to leave in less than two hours. “Listen,” he pulled out the flyer he had printed off. “They have karate for younger kids and I figured you could use the gym while she was at class. If you can’t always be around to protect her, teach her to protect herself.”  
“Sir, this is going to be too expensive—”  
“It’s an international chain, I put you two on my membership.”  
Sam’s head snapped up, “Really?”  
Pike placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re not alone anymore, Son. If you need anything, comm me.”  
Pike then moved to bend once again to talk to the girl. “Jamie, if you ever need help with your languages, my friend Lieutenant Finnlay would be more than happy to help. He knows over thirty different dialects.”  
“That’s so cool,” Jamie said, smiling again.  
As Pike left, he knew something in his had changed as well. These two kids were going to be his, no matter what anyone else had to say about it.


	5. To Plan the Future

Stardate 2244.161: Riverside, Iowa  
Sam crossed the stage, a horrid excuse for tradition in his opinion, to grab his diploma. It was a completely pointless waste of time and resources that could be put to better use in improving the school system. His composure to silently protest this event with a frown had held for the entirety of the speaks, awards and the first half of the names, but it all went to shit when he turned and saw Chris and Jamie waving in the front row. Chris was wearing his dress uniform, attracting attention from all the attendants, especially the females, while Jamie was in a brand-new sundress that two years ago would have been an impossibility. Despite himself, Sam laughed and held up his degree that also would have seemed impossible two years ago.  
Frank had all but abandoned the house. Now that Chris had dictated that Frank's rendezvous' had to happen elsewhere, Frank much preferred to drink himself to sleep at his friends'. When Chris came to visit, albeit very seldom, he seemed to make himself scarcer. Though he always made sure to follow through with his new obligations on time, lest Sam report to Chris that he wasn't upholding his end of their bargain.  
Jamie cheered loudly as she watched her brother return to his seat. "Did you see that, Chris?" she asked, referencing his smile.  
"Yes, I did, Jamie. He's no match for you, is he?" Chris teased.  
"No, Sir," she smiled up at him and his heart melted just like it did the first time he saw it.  
The captain never got to stay long, but he always took her calls, unlike her mother. Jamie remembered the first time she had called him by herself. She had just reached her orange belt and he had wanted to see it and hear about her test. Sam was really nervous to ask him to come, but when he did, Chris said yes. Mom hadn't even called home for five months.  
After the ceremony, Sam went off with friends, but not before hugging both of them tightly and promising to be back before two.  
"You didn't have to wait up," Sam said, surprised to see the captain sitting at their kitchen table when he came in.  
Chris looked up, ready to tease him about being intoxicated only to find his assumption to be false. "I know. What did you do all night?"  
"Not drink, Sir," Sam said automatically.  
"I can see that, son. But you are aware I am not a law officer, I couldn't get you in trouble even if I wanted to."  
As Sam made his way to the fridge, which was stocked and had been since Chris's first visit, Chris smelt the mixture of vodka, cheap beer and slight traces of vomit clinging to the boy. "DD then?" he smirked as Sam went stiff.  
"How do you do that?"  
Chris only waved him off, chuckling, and motioned for him to take a seat across from him. "Grab something to eat and then sit down with me."  
"Yes, sir."  
Once Sam had a bowl of what looked to be day old leftovers, Pike started. "What are you planning on doing next year?"  
Sam stopped chewing, suddenly finding his noodles very interesting. "I talked to a few guys down at the shipyard, they're always down a guy in the electrical department. I'm thinking of taking out a small loan, putting myself through trade school."  
Pike, although not surprised, felt a small amount of disappointment in the plan. "And what? Waste every once of your potential by falling into factory work?" Seeing Sam accepting this fate, Chris tried harder. "Never seeing the stars?"  
The stars, Sam thought. Ever since that night he almost left home, the stars had been his escape. He knew every constellation visible from earth. Sam and Chris had multiple conversations about them over the last year and a half, about what it was like to captain your own ship.  
"And how do you expect me to see the stars, Chris? Be a pilot on an interplanetary ferry?" he asked bitterly.  
"Enlist in Starfleet."  
"Enlist? Are you insane?" Sam snapped.  
"Excuse me?" Chris was stunned by the disrespectful tone that had never before been directed at him.  
"Starfleet gets thousands of applications every year. Thousands of the best of the best. They'd never even look at my transcript."  
Immediately, Chris realized the problem. Sam wanted to go, but was convinced they wouldn't take him. "Sam—"  
"No, Chris," his pained tone clear. Sam wanted nothing more than to get into Starfleet. To follow both his father and Chris's footsteps. For most of his life, he had hated Starfleet, hated them for taking his father away and for keeping his mother off planet. But once he met Chris, he realized that Starfleet wasn't responsible for their mother's neglect or his father's death. The desire to join Starfleet and become a captain was engraved on his soul. One of those wishes that made teeth clench and chest's ache.  
The decision wasn't up to Sam though. It had been made by a young teenager who so was mad at the world he thought the only way to show it was to punish himself. It wasn't too long ago that he realized the world didn't care. There were two types of people who came out of tragedies, those who gave in to self-pity and those who rose above themselves, and Sam hadn't seen that until it was too late. He spent the first five semesters of high school working to fail classes instead of acing them. His GPA reflected and reminded him of that every time he considered following his dreams to the skies.  
"No, Chris," Sam repeated as he left Chris sitting at the kitchen table.  
Chris watched him go, his heart hurting for the boy, his boy. Pulling out his PADD, Chris put on a pot of coffee; it was going to be a long night.  
It was indeed a long night, for both Chris and Sam. Sam spending nearly all-night staring at the sky from his window before finally giving up and climbing onto the roof with a pillow and a light blanket. As Sam had fallen asleep outside, the first rays of sun interrupted his hour long rest. Deciding to head back inside, Sam went down to grab some more food before possibly going back to sleep, in his bed this time.  
Chris, on the other hand, had not gotten even that small hour of sleep. He was still hard at work when he heard footsteps on the rickety staircase. "Shouldn't you still be asleep? You must have only gotten a few hours," he said when he recognized his interruption as Sam.  
"And shouldn't you have gone to sleep by now? Or is Starfleet now expecting their Captains to retain their posts at all hours while on earth?"  
"Not work, actually." Chris motioned to the seat Sam had vacated just hours before. "Sit, now."  
"Sir?" Sam asked cautiously, but did as he was told.  
"This is your official transcript. I know because I requested it just over a month ago." Pike showed Sam the now opened officially-sealed letter. "Now, the GPA is awful, but if you sit down with an admissions representative, they will be able to see when you turned it around. You explain the circumstances, and why you have changed, you show them your willingness to work hard now."  
"But—"  
"I'm not done. This is the paper you submitted for your English mid-term, the one you sent me to fact check. A research project done on the Romulan similarities to both Vulcans and Klingons. Followed up with several essays done these last few months concluding with a thesis of how to use a Vulcan-based negotiation style to strengthen the alliance with the Romulan Empire, and how such a relationship could be used as a diplomatic tool to create sanctions, treaties and eventual peace with the Klingons.  
"Sam," Chris continued. "You get a copy of your work on this issue, every paper you've written this year, and put it in a portfolio that shows how you went about the problem. Then, you write another essay, you tell them exactly what you told me when you started this project. Tell them how you chose Romulus because of the attack on the Kelvin. Show them that one of the ways you thought to change the Vulcan negotiations came from your personal experiences growing up in a verbally abusive household. Tell them the reason you pictured the Romulan Government as a parent who will protect and put first their children, but also who wishes to take the chances to build a better future for them, came from taking care of you little sister. You demand their attention by bringing in the importance of strong handed negotiations, negotiations that the Klingons would not be able to ignore because the Federation would be backed by the second strongest Empire in the galaxy; tell them you learned that lesson by dealing with your Uncle's drinking problems.  
"You do this, Sam, and I swear to you, they will see that it is Starfleet that needs you, not the other way around."  
Sam is silent for a moment. He felt hope building up inside him at the thought that this could actually happen. "But how will I get them to read it? The application only asks for a five-thousand-word essay."  
"Leave that to me," Chris said. He could pull a few strings. It wouldn't even be that hard. All he had to do was walk into the Academy offices and ask to talk with their Application Managers.  
"No, Chris. I don't want to get in just because of who I know."  
"Sam, I swear to you, all I'll do is give them your work. You can be an officer in four years, have your own ship in eight. You can apply these ideas, make lasting peace with the Romulans. You'll be able to pioneer new horizons, and be the first man to ever see new stars."  
Sam took a breath, feeling a mix of elation, anxiety, and anxiousness for the future. Then it all stopped as he thought of Jamie. "What do I tell Jamie?" and then further, "I can't leave her here. Chris, I can't do this. Not yet at least."  
"We'll figure something out, Sam, even if I ask for a position at the Academy or one of the bases. She won't be alone." Although the thought of leaving space was nearly unthinkable for Pike, the thought of leaving Jamie alone or Sam missing out on his future was worse. And Jaime was eleven, the longest he'd be grounded for was seven years, maybe five if he could set up some sort of system once she turned sixteen. Anyway, it would be a comfort to know that neither Kirk would ever have contact with Frank Davis again.  
"No, Chris, I can't let you do that. Jamie is my responsibility."  
"Son, that's a burden you never should have had to carry at such a young age" Chris rested a hand on his shoulder. "I thank the stars every day that you decided to call me two years ago. And honestly, it'd be an honor to consider the two of you my responsibility."  
Sam closed his eyes tight, trying to hold back the tears of relief that were so similar to those he had shed that first time Chris hadn't hung up on him. At eighteen, Sam had never had much family, at least, not living on earth. Suddenly Sam's head shot up. "My Aunt Louisa. She lives in that new colony, Tarsus IV. She offered to take one of us off of Frank's hands for a bit, but mom wouldn't let them separate us. Our cousin Matty is a little over a year and I'm sure she'd love the help. She can take care of Jamie while you're on missions and I'm in school."  
Chris smiled at how Sam had not excluded his offer to take care of them from his idea. "I heard Tarsus is very beautiful. I'm sure Jamie won't fight spending most of the year climbing mountains and swimming in lakes very hard."  
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "It will suit her perfectly."  
Sam got up to make eggs and toast for them. They were finally going to be completely free of Uncle Frank, he was going to study to be a captain like his father, and from what he could remember of Aunt Louisa, Jamie was going to have an amazing mother figure, which he knew was supposed to be important for girls. Sam smiled as he watched the eggs sizzle in his pan.


	6. The Sky that Went Dark

Stardate 2246.064: Tarsus IV  
It was nearly March, and back in Iowa she still would have been playing with snow. On Tarsus, though, the winter had ended weeks ago. Jamie loved Tarsus, she was glad to be back, but nothing beat home anymore. By home Jamie didn't mean the farm, no, her home for nearly two years had been San Francisco, even though, technically speaking, she spent more time on Tarsus with Aunty Louisa than on earth.  
San Francisco was where Sam went to school and Pike lived when he was on leave. At first, Jamie had been scared when Sam had told her he was going to join Starfleet, but they hadn't abandoned her. Just like they promised. She went back for the summer months as well as for Christmas and her birthday. And Tarsus was fun. The school she went to was located in First Tarsus, the original homestead. It was only a few blocks from Governor Kodos' house. When Jamie had first signed up for school, she was told to go to The Marketplace, also known as Homestead Three, but Jamie's grades and growing ability with computers got her moved to the advanced programs.  
Homesteads Two and Four were where most of the population lived. Two was mostly farmers, it was located between the Marketplace and Tarsus Lake. While Four housed the miners, and was nestled into the foothills of the mountains.  
Another thing Jamie liked about living on Tarsus was all the technology. Before Tarsus had become Tarsus IV, a colony that was attempting to establish the next Terra, it had been a science outpost. It still was, partially. That was why Governor Kodos established the four homesteads, to keep most people away from First Tarsus, which would limit the probability of accidents. Consequently, this also allowed for the homesteads to be built on the most cutting edge science in the galaxy. Travel between the homesteads would take at least two to three hours by car, half-hour by El, and nearly three days on foot, but with the transporter devices that lined the center of each homestead, it was nearly instantaneous.  
"I'll see you later, Jamie," her friend Tommy called as they walked by her house. It was a common for Jamie to walk home from the transporter pads after school with Tommy. He was in the advanced math programs but they had most of their standards together, including Linguistics, which was still one of her favorites.  
As Jamie came through the door, she noticed her Uncle Todd sitting on the couch.  
"Did they close the mines early today, Uncle Todd?"  
Todd, who had heard Jamie from nearly a block away, was waiting with a small smile for his niece. Although Jamie was originally wary of him, she warmed up quickly, much to his relief and pleasure. Todd was a Vorta, a humanoid race whose physical and cultural differences, although small, caused him great difficulty on Earth. In an attempt to better assimilate he had changed his name from the given Toahd, which caused great difficulty for the human tongue, to the common Terran name of Todd. Despite his wishes, his skin was still paler; his eyes were violet, which, to his learned understanding, was a color usually associated on Earth with a chromosome mutation; and his ridged, elongated ears separated him most of the population. Todd tolerated it for a while, but when he had married Louisa, he found out just how much of what he classified as xenophobia was truly strong-seeded racism.  
Todd had known from the Captain that Frank had mistreated Winona's kids, but, when she first came, Todd had feared that her hesitation around him was actually from his race. Louisa and he had moved from Earth to Tarsus to avoid racism. A small part of him wished they could have stayed to fight against it, as he knew that was the only way it would ever get better, but when Louisa had become pregnant, he knew he could not raise their child in such an environment. It would seem that outside of Starfleet or the colonies, interracial marriage was still highly looked down upon.  
"Yes, they did, Sweetheart. First Tarsus is conducting an experiment and they need as much of a controlled environment as they can get. Governor Kodos ordered the change of schedule himself. Apparently, this could get dangerous."  
"Will this be like that time all the satellites got destroyed?" Jamie remembered. It was just after the first time she had come to Tarsus and it felt like the whole planet shook. First Tarsus was working on some protective shield that launches into the atmosphere to protect the outer planets or something. Anyway, the formula or science was off because it ate away all the satellites that were in orbit. Jamie couldn't talk to Sam or Chris for nearly a month until they were able to clear the atmosphere and relaunch the proper communication satellites.  
"It might be," Todd deduced. "The talk of the mines was that it was another prototype. You better call your brother and Captain Pike just to be sure. I know you'll be upset if you don't get to talk to them."  
"Okay," Jamie smiled, happy to have a reason to call Chris. He was on a mission so she always hesitated to waste his time, not that he'd ever say she was, he always seemed very happy to hear from her. After Frank and her mother though, she didn't want to seem like a pest.  
Jamie tried Chris first, only to get his voicemail. She was disappointed, but not surprised. If it was Alpha shift in whatever quadrant of space the Truman was in, then he wouldn't be able to take personal calls. Despite not being able to see him, Jaime smiled as she left the message. She knew better than to pout in the only message she'd be able to leave him for a while. Another plus about the tech here, Video calls were easy access.  
Next, she called Sam. To her delight, he picked up. "Hey, Jamie," Sam greeted.  
"Hi, Sam," she surveyed the screen to see that he was currently in his dorm room.  
"How's school?"  
"It's good. We've been working on a breaking through this encryption for my computer course."  
Sam rolled his eyes good naturedly. "If you wanted to learn how to hack, I could have taught you that."  
A voice from off the screen interrupted Jamie's comeback. "Is that my captain?" Sam's roommate, Garsiv Mckenna, popped into view behind Sam's chair.  
Jamie smiled, it was a running joke between them ever since Garsiv had made an off hand comment about Sam's command focus and Jamie had backed him instead of her brother. "Hello, Lieutenant. Was our mission a success?"  
"Yes, it was, Cap. Sam here has a date this Friday," Garsiv reached around and squeezed his check.  
Sam threw back his elbow, effectively dislodging the parasite. "You were in on this too?" Sam asked, fake betrayal in his voice.  
Jamie giggled and nodded her head.  
"I was going to ask Lara out on my own time. I didn't need you guys to interfere like that."  
"If you're referring to the Operation Galahad," Garsiv said smugly. "We had nothing to do with that."  
Sam shook his head at his friend and sister. "If Operation Galahad was a drunken Garsiv spilling his entire coke and whiskey down Lara's dress in order for me to offer to escort her back to her dorm, then yes, Jamie, it was a success. You ruined Lara's uniform and successfully made Garsiv and me look like idiots in front of half our class."  
"It wasn't half our class, Sam. There were barely two hundred people in that bar."  
"But she said yes?" Jamie asked hopefully.  
Sam sighed, "Yes, she said yes."  
"Yay, Sam!"  
"Alright, alright. Now what about you, Jai? Find any boys up there worth your time?"  
Jamie scrunched up her nose. "Boys are gross. Uncle Todd thinks that Tommy wants to kiss me, but I don't think so. Tommy doesn't seem like he would do that stuff. Do you have to kiss in order to be a girlfriend? It seems kinda gross. Tommy's breath always smells really bad."  
Sam laughed, "No, Jamie, you don't have to kiss anyone you don't want to. In fact, you don't ever have to kiss a boy."  
Garsiv snorted behind him and Sam turned to glare at him.  
"What kind of people don't ever kiss, Sam?"  
"Vulcans. Marry a Vulcan and you never have to kiss him."  
"God, Sam," Garsiv said, laughing. "Don't put that kind of idea into her head. She'll do it."  
"Jamie! Come set the table for dinner!" her aunts voice came from down the hall.  
Sam, having heard the summons too, smiled at his little sister, "I'll talk to you soon, m'kay?"  
Jamie nodded. "But it might be a while. They are about to launch a new prototype into the sky again. It might knock out the satellites like last time. Don't worry if it does. We'll be fine down here."  
Sam frowned. "Again? Okay, well, I promise I won't worry. I'll make sure to check the news tomorrow for updates. If something happens, you know how to call Chris and I without the preprogramming?"  
"Yes, Sam. I know your codes. You asked me every time I hung up for a year."  
"Just want to make sure you're safe, Jai," Sam said smoothly. "Love you."  
"Love you too."  
Jamie ended the call and ran down to do her chores. Over dinner she talked with her aunt and uncle about school and how her phone call with Sam went. Then, they all gathered out on the back porch to watch the launch. They didn't have to wait too long before the burst of sound and energy shook the ground.  
"Look!" Aunt Louisa cried as the growing column of smoke and light turned grey and then black. Suddenly, the ball of light seemed to explode, the black smoke quickly spreading out in an arch on the horizon. For a moment, everyone was quiet as they watched the cloud expand and start to block out the light. Then the alarms rang. Something was very wrong.


	7. Comrades

Stardate 2246.071: Tarsus IV  
The sky had taken twelve hours to go dark. Needless to say, the sun didn’t rise the next morning, or the one after that. Emergency protocol was activated, saferooms in the basements of the houses were opened, mandatory Food-stores were tapped into, and the people of Tarsus waited in windowless rooms for the clear-code. Only it didn’t come.  
Tarsus law stated that every household had to have a week’s worth of food and water for each member of the household stored in the saferoom at all times. The government provided both the correct amounts and the non-perishables to fulfill the requirements, thus entering a contract with the homesteaders: Come to our colony, but acknowledge and understand the risks.  
It was on the last day of the food supplies that the video-screen lit up.  
“Attention, brave settlers of Tarsus IV,” was the grave greeting of Governor Kodos. “My comrades, as you are all aware, First Tarsus has been tasked with conducting experiments on a new defensive device. The Paladin, is what our labs have been calling it. The purpose of the Paladin is to create a shield in the atmosphere of a planet that will render enemy ships useless but not effect the organic growth or habitability of planet it is protecting. It was this project that destroyed the satellites nearly two years ago.  
“Unfortunately, modifications to the dispersal agents caused a chemical reaction in the atmosphere. The previously harmless acid-based particles changed composition. It is the understanding of our lab-experts that although animal life has remained steady, plant life continues to drop. We were able to send out a distress signal to Starfleet before the device fully circumvented the globe, but the device has prevented any further communication since it’s deployment.  
“We ask that everyone return to their schedules tomorrow, with the exception of our farmers from Homestead Two. We will host a debriefing session in First Tarsus, and ask if you all attend. We are doing everything in our power to clear the atmosphere. We will alert you when we have more news.”  
The screen went dark and, in a dimly lit room, Jamie looked up at her aunt and uncle. “What does this mean?”  
Louisa glanced at her husband before going and taking Jamie in her arms. “It means that the sky is going to be a little dark for the next few days, until First Tarsus can figure out how to fix it.”  
“Will we still have school?”  
“Yes,” Louisa smiled at the concern in her niece’s voice. “You will still be able to go to school. In fact, Governor Kodos just said you get to go back tomorrow.”  
“Will it still be dark tomorrow?” Jamie was a little daunted by the idea.  
“You know what, Sweetheart?” Todd stepped in. “It will be like going to school at night. You remember how cool your Astronomy segment was, don’t you?”  
Jamie nodded.  
“Then this will be just like that!”  
Jamie didn’t feel convinced but she caved. “Okay, I guess it will be kind of cool.”  
And it was cool, Jamie decided. Tommy and her friends all thought it was fun for the first few days, but then the whispers started. Jamie could hear them from the other room, Aunt Louisa and Uncle Todd talking in fast, hushed tones. Every time she’s go into the kitchen or the living room, they’d stop. Something was going on, and Jamie wasn’t stupid.  
That night, she snuck out of her room and waited out of sight on the stairs. Her aunt and uncle were down in the kitchen, talking normally for once, as they assumed Jamie and Matty were asleep.  
“Todd, we need to do something.”  
“There is nothing I can do, Louisa. The Marketplace is empty, there is no more food in the colony.”  
“That can’t be right, what about the reserves?”  
“The reserves are kept off planet. Haven’t you noticed? There hasn’t been a single ship in the sky since that cloud appeared.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“The experiments on a device that will ‘render enemy ships useless’ might be grounding our own too.”  
“But if that’s the case,” Aunt Louisa’s voice grew quiet and Jamie had to strain to hear it. “How will we feed the children?”  
“We’ll think of something.”  
“I’m scared, Todd.”  
“Me too, Lou, me too.”  
Jamie ran back into her room, grabbing their portable communicator. Desperately, she pressed in the codes for her brother. As the first call, and every call, after that ended with the words “Unattainable Signal,” tears streaked Jamie’s face. How could this be happening? Switching her useless calling to Chris’s number, Jamie suddenly felt very alone. Not willing to give up, Jamie crawled into her bed and pulled the covers around her and the PADD. She spent hours calling them until the battery died and she finally fell asleep from exhaustion.  
The next morning, Jamie was given a half a fruit, the other half going to Matty. She noticed for the first time how both the adults refrained from eating. Beeping from the mandatory comm in the basement interrupted her meal. They all gathered to watch with anxiety.  
“Inhabitants of Homestead Two and Four, as you know, in a state of emergency, Starfleet regulations guarantee relief forces. The ships arrived early this morning, but have experienced a problem with entering our atmosphere. In order to prevent unnecessary loss of energy, the mine has been closed until further notice.  
“I understand your fear, many of you are beginning to empty your food stores. I assure you, we are doing everything we can to clear the weapon from the atmosphere, but we have yet to find any solution that makes serious gain. As we acknowledge this danger, First Tarsus, with the help of our farming experts, have begun to replicate crops. This process will not be quick, and will not provide immediate relief. Although ridding Tarsus of this shield is our number one priority, we are setting up task forces to run distribution of the available food. Fill out the forms that will appear on the screen after I sign off for further information. We will be in contact as soon as something changes.”  
Governor Kodos finished his speech and, as far as Jamie was concerned, he didn’t give one helpful instruction. Before the expected paperwork appeared on the screen, a second message appeared. It was written as a letter.  
Her uncle opened the attachment and began to read out loud:  
—Concerning Jamie T Kirk,  
As a member of the First Tarsus Advanced Placement Program, you are invited to join Governor Kodos and aid in the growth, care and distribution of the new crops. If you plan to accept, please alert your instructor before reporting to First Tarsus at 0900 hours. Should you choose to accept, you will be housed on site, bring appropriate accommodations.  
Signed,  
Larius Sideris  
Head of Science, First Tarsus Advancement and Engineering Lab—  
Although Jamie didn’t want to leave her family, she soon found herself walking up to Tommy in the small lounge area of her school. Her aunt and uncle had insisted she go. After a few minutes of her refusing to leave, they had leveled with her like an adult, and Jamie was shocked to hear the bluntness in their argument. Aunt Louisa had told her First Tarsus would be able to feed her, while they were already running low. Jamie, remembering the conversation she had heard last night, had finally given in.  
“Jamie,” Tommy called, motioning her to come faster. He was standing in a small group of older kids. If Jamie remembered correctly, one of them was Tommy’s cousin.  
They all looked over as she made her approach. For a moment, Jamie hesitated. The two boys were at least a foot and a half taller than her, and their frowns did nothing to broker a positive invitation into their conversation, and the girl gave her a tight smile. While in reality the unwelcoming posture of the young men was due to a greater understanding of the severity of the situation than Jamie, at her young age, had put together, Jamie, and most others, interpreted it as sign to stay away. That being said, it took Jamie Kirk all of two seconds to come to the conclusion that she didn’t care if they didn’t want her there and to change the shy attitude she had been wearing since she walked in into the semblance of a confident gait. Exhibiting extreme swagger for an eighth grader, Jamie greeted her friend.  
“Hey, you’re that Starfleet-girl, aren’t you?” One of the boys asked.  
Jamie had never heard that cognomen, but figured it fit. “If you’re referring to my family, then I guess so.”  
Tommy rolled his eyes before introducing them, “Xeno, this is my friend Jamie; Jamie, this is my cousin Xeno.”  
Xeno nodded at the girl, amused at the sass that radiated off of her. He watched as Tommy and her took off to find their station, a plan forming in his head. Most of the senior class had been called out of emergency lock down after only a day. They had been asked to help First Tarsus in its first responses to the crisis. Because of this, Xeno and his friends had discovered something in the governor’s plans that didn’t add up. He feared what Kodos was going to do.  
They had spent the last week preparing, but had decided they couldn’t trust Hadlee, the member of the computer program that was in their class. Hadlee was too much of a sellout. Xeno knew it was a long shot, but if he remembered correctly, Jamie was almost through the codes as well. And if traits were inherited, Jamie had the same ‘plausibly nobility’ that was engrained into Starfleet’s commanding officers. Plus, she seemed like a little spitfire.  
Xeno looked at the two others who he had trusted with this discovery, Wyatt and Malina. “What do you think? Could she do it?”  
Malina watched the girl disappear out of the room. “She’s going to have to.”


	8. The Plan of a Beast

Stardate 2246.072: Tarsus IV

Malina Thornton crept through the darkness, using the shadows from the faint emergency lights as a guide. The watch on her wrist displayed 0200. Everyone was asleep except for a few security guards, and a small group of teenagers. Kodos insisted on a lights out policy at midnight, the new recruits and the older ones all being put down onto the sleep mats they provided. Lights came back on in the hallways in three hours and Malina had to move quickly. She found the mat she was looking for and crouched over it. Malina studied the body, trying to think of the best way to wake her up. Not finding one, she shrugged and clapped her hand over the girls mouth.  
The girl jerked awake, awoken by a burning in her lungs and a firm pressure over her nose and mouth. She couldn't breathe. Something was blocking her air supply. She thrashed instinctively, trying to shake it loose.  
"Jamie, open your eyes and stop moving," a whispered command came across her oxygen-deprived brain.  
Jamie froze, but followed orders, opening her eyes with them already set in a glare. Above her in the darkness was the girl she had met earlier that day, Malina. After a few moments, when Malina was sure she wouldn't scream, the older girl moved off of her. Jamie's lungs expanded and the resulting breath was noticeably loud.  
Malina hit the girl's arm in frustration, she was being too loud. "Stay low to the ground and follow me. Try not to step on anyone."  
Confused by complying, Jamie followed Malina through the maze of sleeping bodies towards the door. Malina opened the door slightly, peeking her head out the crack. After confirming the hallway was clear, they quietly moved through.  
"Stay close to the wall, behind the pillars," Malina whispered, taking the lead again.  
Nodding, Jamie fell in line behind her. They had not gone one corridor when Malina's arm shot out, hitting solidly across Jamie's chest and pushing her back up against the wall as a guard rounded the corner. Too scared to breathe, Jamie closed her eyes and pressed further against the wall, meaning to sink into it. She didn't know what they were doing, but it was obvious it wasn't in the rule book. Part of her was scared to death and wanted to return to her sleeping mat, while another part was secretly thrilled. If it wasn't for Malina's arm, she was sure the frightened side of her would have won out, but as it was, she stayed.  
Malina, however, was calm. This was the fifth time she had taken this path through the dark, and she had yet to be caught. Now more than ever it was important to be vigilant. If they were seen, they could be followed or stopped, and they had little more than seventy-two hours before the first distribution was scheduled.  
"This way," Malina said once the guard was gone.  
Picking up their pace, Malina hurried them through the last turns and they reached the stairs. She pulled out the key Xeno had copied for her and slid it through the card reader. The seconds that it took for the red lights to turn green moved like molasses.  
"Where are we going?" Jamie finally got the courage to ask.  
The door shut behind them and Malina took a deep breath. They were safe on the stairs for now. It was only patrolled twice a night, once during lights out and then once more before they came back on. Wyatt would be able to hack into the security server and erase their entries before morning. They had originally hoped Wyatt could break the code for them, but he had already spent three nights on it and had yet to break through the first level.  
"We need your help, Jamie Kirk," Malina answered as they descended the stairs.  
"With what?"  
They came to another door, this one was heavily locked with a small window on the left. It was labeled SE 14 in block letters down the side. "We're here," Malina spoke into a small comm and a few moments later, the door opened and a blinding light filled the stairwell.  
"With this."  
The doorway opened up into a huge facility, probably the length of all of First Tarsus as Jamie couldn't see any of the other sides. A platform like an old fire-escape resided right before the door and the stairs dropped around five floors. The space was filled with plants, crops and trees, all unaffected by the famine that happened above ground.  
"Food," was all Jamie could say as she stepped out onto the metal stairs. First Tarsus had provided them with a larger meal than any she had received at home this week, but it still was rations.  
"Come on," Malina put her hand on Jamie's shoulder, then pointed past her. "We're going to that tree."  
It took them nearly a half hour to get to their destination, passing a field of corn and one of beans as well.  
"The malfunction with the shield wasn't an accident. Kodos caused the famine." Malina said as they approached the tree.  
"Why would he do that?"  
"Because he hates the settlements," a voice came from behind the tree. Two figures picked themselves up off the ground and walked towards them.  
"Jamie, you remember Xeno and Wyatt. We spoke earlier," Malina explained.  
Jamie nodded.  
"Three years ago," Xeno continued, "Governor Kodos was Chief Executive of the most advanced science lab in the Federation. Now he manages farmers, miners, and refugees. People he deems to be below himself and his work."  
Jamie was confused. She'd met Governor Kodos and he was never anything but friendly. He started the advanced program to help the settlers make their way in the Federation. He was setting up distribution centers to feed the people of the settlements. There was no way he could have caused the famine.  
"You're wrong. Governor Kodos wouldn't do that."  
"What do you know about it," Wyatt snapped. "Kodos is a eugenist. He believes that in order to improve the Federation, it is the right of the government to control the breeding and inheritance of desirable traits."  
"Do you mean races?" Jamie asked. "He is xenophobic?"  
Malina stepped forward. "He means traits within the races. Kodos wants the strongest, fastest, and smartest of each race. He thinks they are the only ones worthy of living in Tarsus IV. Don't you see? Everything he has done points to that. He separated the settlers into factions the moment they arrived here. Farmers in one. Miners in another. Tradesmen and teaches in a third. And then he made First Tarsus."  
"The advanced placement tests we took in school, the ones that determined our admission into the program here. And then a famine strikes and he gathers us all to him like a flock of sheep." Xeno rose his voice. "The entire program is here, down to the first graders. What help can they possibly be to the altering of food genomes or attempting to remove an acidic gas from the atmosphere? Kodos created the famine as an attempt to control the gene pool. No settlers will want to come here after a government caused disaster like this. The kids who are saved, will feel indebted to Kodos for helping them, and will stay to rebuild Tarsus IV. The strongest. The smartest. The best."  
Jamie looked at the older kids with wide eyes. "But," she still protested. No one could be that evil. "Look at all the food he's growing. He's going to give it to everyone in a few days. He made the announcement."  
"The food's been here the whole time!" Wyatt yelled.  
Malina sighed, "Jamie, the days are getting lighter. The shield is dissipating, whether it's Starfleet on the other side or the natural release. Whatever it is, Kodos is worried. He can't wait for everyone to die naturally."  
"What does that mean?" Jamie whispered.  
Malina and Xeno looked at Wyatt. "It means, Kirk, that we have tonight and tomorrow to figure out how to warn everyone. The distribution is just a ploy. Kodos isn't going to share this food, not when the famine destroyed everything above ground. It's a way to get everyone into one place. It's going to be a massacre."  
Jamie's breathing was riddled with shudders. How was this possible? Aunt Louisa, Uncle Toad, Matty. They were all going to die. "How, ha-how are," Jamie closed her eyes to focus on the words. "How are we going to warn them?" She annunciated every word in an attempt to stop the stutter.  
"We are going to program an alert to go off the morning of the distribution. If we send it out now, Kodos will find out and be able to write it off as a rumor," Xeno said. "And we need you to break into First Tarsus's Comm Units."  
"Why me? I'm not even in the computer science program."  
"What?" Wyatt asked. "Xeno!"  
Xeno sent a quick glare at Wyatt before turning to the blonde. "But you know how to, don't you?"  
She shrugged, but was far from calm. "I don't know. I mean, I'm good with coding. And I've seen my brother do it a few times. If the firewall isn't too advanced, then I should be able to get through it."  
"Wyatt is working in the lab, that's how he found out the shield malfunction wasn't an accident. Let him know what you will need. We need to get back before the lights come back on. Malina will take you to the meeting spot tomorrow night and you'll break the code then."  
Jamie nodded earnestly, trying to cover how afraid she felt. Malina put her hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's going to be okay, Jamie. We'll warn them."  
If only Malina could convince herself of that as well.


	9. Outside the Shield

Stardate 2246.074: Aboard the USS Truman

Ten days ago, Captain Pike’s communicator received a message from the small outer-colony of Tarsus IV. The captain and his crew were engaging in negotiations with a planet that was willing to join the Federation in exchange for their aid in fighting off a nearby slaver. The message, therefore, was stored for private use until after the mission was completed, as per Starfleet regulations. It was two days prior to the current stardate, that Pike was notified of the distress call from Tarsus IV. Hence the tension that was palpable in the air around the captain as he had waited on a response from Admiral Archer. A response that came nearly an hour ago.  
Pike had been given permission to deviate from the course home to stop at the growing relief force for Tarsus IV. Despite the depletion of rations, they had been authorized to help the peaceful armada for one week, after which they would need to return to Earth to resupply. The Captain would never forget the moment of betrayal, panic and fear he felt when he had finally been transported back onto the Truman after a grueling mission.

. . . .

“Well done, Captain!” Lieutenant Jay had called from his station behind the transport controls.  
“Thank you, Jay. But we couldn’t have done it without the help of our translator.” The Captain put his hand onto the shoulder of the newest member of his crew. “You proved your worth out there, Friesen. You did well.”  
The kid beamed like an Acamarian on the day it gets its first tattoo. “Thank you, sir.”  
Pike nodded. “Before anyone retires for the night, Doctor Eerley needs to see everyone in the Med Bay,” he called back to the small landing crew. Groans and mumbles from an overtired group was too relatable to Pike for him to scold the breach of protocol.  
A shout of “Captain!” announced Commander Finnlay into the small control room.  
Pike stood aside to let the crew pass, not paying too much attention to the out of breath look on his friends face. “What is it, Finnlay? I’m off duty for the next twelve hours. Have the Beta Team look over the problem.”  
“Chris,” his friend stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “It’s Jamie.”  
The crowded hallway went quiet. Everyone knew of the Kirk siblings Captain Pike had taken under his wing, and everyone knew how much they meant to him.  
“What?” his voice was barely a whisper.  
“There was a distress call from Tarsus IV. There was an accident, something the lab was testing.”  
“Jamie?”  
“Last we heard, the colonies had gone underground.”  
“What do you mean ‘last we heard?’” Chris demanded.  
Finnlay clenched his jaw and swallowed to wet his dry throat. He’d met the Kirk siblings several times over the last four years and it had taken jamie all of two of those visits to get him wrapped around his finger. But for all his admiration of the two, they had become his friends life. “Last communication with the surface was over a week ago.”

. . . .

“Captain,” Commander Finnlay placed his hand onto Chris’s shoulder, his brow pinched tight in worry. The captain had been staring at the launch controls for over five minutes. “Are you alright?”  
Shaking himself out of it, Chris looked up at his second. “I’m fine,” Chris gave him a tight smile to reassure him.  
It didn’t work. “Chris,” Finnlay said lowly. “She’s going to be alright.”  
“Did you read the latest report form the relief force? They can clear a section of the air long enough to get a glimpse of the surface.”  
“I know,” Finnlay tried to console him.  
“They wrote that everything on the planet was dead. There wasn’t a spec of green in sight.”  
“I know, Chris,” Finnlay glanced around the deck. “Look, how about you take a break. We’ll be coming up on the armada in a little under an hour, and you’ve been in that chair for nine, so, take a break. Go call your boy, Chris.”  
Chris considered it for a moment before nodding. “Take the chair?”  
Finnlay looked down at it before shaking his head. “We’ll comm if we need you.”  
Chris nodded once again before taking the short trek to his quarters. Once he was there he did the same thing he had done this morning, and last night, and a few times yesterday afternoon, which was replay the recording left on his device.  
He sat down heavily onto his couch. And fought back tears as Jamie’s face came on his PADD.  
“Hey Chris, sorry I missed you. I just wanted to let you know that First Tarsus is doing another launch—you know that thing that knocked out all the satellites last time? Anyway, I just didn’t want you to worry if communications drop again. Hope everything is fine on the Truman and you didn’t start a war. Oh! And we need to talk about when I’m coming home this summer. Miss you! Talk to you soon. Bye.”  
Wiping his hand over his face, he dialed the code for Sam.  
“Chris, any news?” was the greeting he received.  
Sighing loudly, he said, “Not yet, we are still about an hour out. What about your source? What’s going on with the relief force?”  
Sam had a friend who had been assigned to the Perpetua.   
“Williams said that they found a way to remove the gases from the atmosphere. He doesn’t know all the specifics but he knows that it will leave some oxygen and a few others but if they have to continue to break through the shield—that’s what they are calling it—then the planet will be rendered inhospitable.”  
“If they break through the shield, will they be able to get everyone off before the atmosphere kills them?”   
“I don’t know. I would assume so. Williams said that it’s taking them so long because they are trying to leave so much of the natural elements.”  
“Good,” Chris noticed the dark circles under Sam’s eyes and how his hair was messier than usual. “Are you sleeping okay?”  
Sam looked at him surprised, like he always was when Chris was able to deduce something from a single look. “Are you?”  
Chris smiled a little. “Touche.”  
After a moment, Sam asked, “She’s going to be okay, right, Chris?”  
Chris shook his head, “I don’t know. All we can do is have hope. She’s strong,” he whispered, more to himself than to Sam.  
“Yeah,” Sam whispered back. “The distress call from the First Tarsus lab said that it was only affecting plant life on the surface. If Starfleet is close to breaking through the shield, she should be safe. A little hungry, but alive.”  
“You’re right. Last I heard—wait, how did you get a hold of the original message?” the captain asked, hoping he was wrong.  
Sam stopped talking and looked away, unable to meet Chris’s eyes.  
“Damn it, son.”  
“I’m sorry, Sir. I just needed to know.”  
“Sam if the academy finds out you could be seriously reprimanded. They could go so far as to never let you fly from the Captain’s seat. Not to mention its illegal.”  
“It’s Jamie, Chris. I needed to know,” he argued.  
Chris took a deep breath. “Fine, but if you need to know anything else, just ask me. I can find it for you. Agreed?”  
“Agreed.”  
A voice came over the intercom telling Chris he was needed on the bridge. Summoning a small smile, Chris said goodbye to the cadet and walked to the command room.


End file.
